#all hail the bright sunshine

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet + ch 51

a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... all chapters

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Minors DNI. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

51. don’t cry for me, argentina

You are lucky that you have traveled enough that you practically arrange everything for your journey on autopilot, operating in a daze of excitement and dread, daring to hope yet beating yourself down at every turn. 

This isn’t going to amount to anything. 

You’re flying to the bottom of the world just to crush yourself again.

Yet in the grand scheme of things, an 11 hour flight seems like the least you can do, to indulge this mystery. 

You’ll just go, and see. What’s the harm? Besides to your barely clinging last thread of sanity? 

You’ve never had the luxury of planning a trip without a budget. There is something incredibly convenient about just being able to book whatever flights and hotel you want without giving a fuck for the price. The zeroes in your bank account are vast, and this is really the first time you’ve splurged with them. 

The hardest part is arranging for the care of Dog with someone you trust. You know Winston would take him if you asked, but the Continental is not a kennel. You think there is some synergy in the Universe, when you recruit a girl from the coffee house who you befriended to housesit and watch your faithful pooch. Dog can tell that the energy of the house has changed as you pack, seeming both anxious and curious in that sage way canines have about them. 

“I promise I’m coming back soon,” you tell him, kissing him on the snoot. 

You hope you’re telling the truth.    

***

You feel as though you are holding your breath for the entire plane ride. 

You do not sleep, and when at last you land in Buenos Aires you feel as though you are walking amidst a fever dream, collecting your bags from the carousel on autopilot. A press of people await their loved ones outside security. There are smiling faces, laughter, embraces. You search the crowd, but no one is familiar. 

No one is waiting there for you, and you are scared to admit you’d even entertained the slightest sliver of hope. 

As though you’re afraid of jinxing yourself, you’ve hardly allowed yourself to consciously admit the purpose of your mission here. Certainly not aloud, and you didn’t even tell Winston where you were going, afraid he would talk you out of it. 

The warmth from outside presses through the windows of the last atrium of the airport; you have to take off your coat or you will cook. Stray dogs nap politely in the shade by an unmanned counter. This is a different world than what you’re used to at home, and at last that old familiar energy greets you; the beginning of an adventure. 

Anything could happen. 

You get your second wind, and with new courage you walk out into the warm day to hail a taxi.   

This beautiful city racing past the window seems like a fairyland out the corner of your eye, the bright purple jacaranda trees in full bloom dreamily painting the landscape. You see poverty and wealth existing side by side as you motor down the highway, and you think maybe it’s not so different from the other big cities you have known. 

You chat politely but haltingly with your driver. Maybe he can tell that your reluctance to talk has less to do with your grasp of the language than your mind being elsewhere. He gives up halfway to your little hotel in Palermo; you hope he doesn’t think ill of you, and you give him a big tip in American Dollars, the coveted currency in this part of the world where the value of the peso dives on a whim. You packed lightly, but he still insists on carrying your bag into the lobby, and you thank him profusely. 

***

Once you are settled in your room, you find you are reluctant to leave it again, and not because of jet lag. Out there lies a whole city to comb; out there you could find redemption–or the absolute devastation of one final disappointment. 

In the end, you make yourself go. You didn’t come here to stare out your second-story window, as nice as the view of the tree-lined street is. Your first plan is to check out the travel agency that printed the flyer, which is now crumpled and folded from your repeated perusing of it. They’d seemed perplexed about it over the phone, but very eager to sell you a tour anyway. 

It’s a modest little office within walking distance of your hotel, and you would have enjoyed the stroll down the shaded streets, if your heart wasn’t trying to escape from your chest, and your hands weren’t shaking from adrenaline. Posters line the windows advertising gaucho tours on horseback of the Pampas grasslands, epic views of the great Iguazú Falls, and the penguin colonies of the Peninsula Valdés.    

All of these things sound interesting, but it’s not what you came for. 

You go inside to find a young lady behind the counter. She is wearing a sleeveless pink shirt, showing off toned arms covered in tattoos. Her ears are studded from lobe to helix with silver. She looks intimidating, until her generous mouth parts in a smile. “How are you today? I’m Ava.”

You exchange pleasantries before you pull out your heavily-handled flyer, presenting it to her. “Does your company print these?” 

She looks it over with a little frown. “That is our logo,” she says, tapping the paper. “But I’ve never seen this before. Where did you get it?” 

“It was sent to my house, in New York?” 

This puzzles her even further. “I’m sorry ma’am, we do not do print advertising in the United States? It would be too expensive.” 

Of course it would. 

You are strangely elated to hear this, a fluttering in your belly like waking butterflies. “I’m looking for a man,” you say. “He’s tall. Handsome. Dark eyes, dark hair.” 

She lifts an eyebrow at you, her green eyes veritably sparkling, and you realize you’ve described a great deal of the male population of this country–and it sounds like you’re trying to solicit something untoward. “I have a photo!” you exclaim, your cheeks fiery with embarrassment. 

You dig through your phone with trembling fingers until you find a good picture of John (that won’t make you blush even harder). “Have you seen him?” 

She studies the photo. Then she studies it a little more, her lips twisting, and you can’t help it. Even with tears in your eyes, you burst out laughing, and she joins you a minute later. “I know, right?” 

She covers her smile with her hand, handing you back the phone. “I’m sorry, but I have not seen him. I think I would remember, no?” 

“Yeah. You probably would.” Your burst of elation is replaced just as quickly with disappointment as you tuck your phone back into your bag. It’s a dead end, then. Or at least…you’re left with more questions than answers. Someone made that brochure, used this agency’s logo and address, and sent it 5000 miles to your door.

If it wasn’t John, and he’s truly gone…then who? Was it a trap? 

Don César was certain the Aragón cartel was all but finished that fateful night, and according to Winston the Camorra were all too glad to be rid of Dante. You know that John Wick had a list of enemies longer than his arm, but why the fuck would any of them care about you? 

“Can I give you my hotel?” you ask. “Just in case, you could leave me a message?” You think that might be a little better than your cell number. Can’t you be tracked that way? Should you change your sim card? Should you get a burner phone? 

You’re not a spy, and you really don’t know what to do, both wanting to be found, and fearing it. 

“Sure,” she agrees. “How long will you be in Argentina?” 

“A couple of weeks.” The answer is actually indefinitely, but you figure she doesn’t need to know that. 

“I am leading a tour around the city sites tomorrow. It includes wine tasting and lunch at one of the best parrillas in Palermo. There are still openings if you might be interested?” 

“How many people are in the group?” 

“Right now, there are eight.” 

You’d surely be safe in a group, wouldn’t you? You still can’t shake the feeling like you’re caught up in some kind of old school spy craft game, so you agree. 

It can't hurt to get the lay of the land from a local, right? And maybe…she’ll take you somewhere you’re supposed to go?

What could go wrong.

***

It's strange pretending that you're a normal tourist, amidst the group of happy couples and young backpackers out to see the city. You make the obligatory smalltalk, though the whole time you are searching the faces of passersby, and the buildings around you, hoping for a clue.

As though she senses you might be a little fragile, or maybe because she feels sorry for you as the only loner in the group, Ava sticks close to you, and you enjoy getting to know her as she leads you all around this beautiful city like a line of lost ducklings in her stompy black boots.

By the end of the day you do feel like you have your bearings more. The tour’s big finale is a feast of various beef cuts grilled on a wood fired parrilla. The red wine flows, and the wooden interior of the restaurant is made extra cozy when it starts to rain, and the waitresses light candles to combat the gloom. 

It would be a lovely place to dine with someone special–but even in your little group, you are alone. 

By the time you make it back to your hotel room you are soaked, exhausted, a little drunk, and you fear no closer to solving your mystery. You’re not proud of it…but you curl up on your bed, and cry yourself to sleep. 

***

You have a checklist of the places to go that were mentioned in the brochure. You visited some of them briefly the day before, or at least went past them. You start with the Gardens, because they’re nearby your hotel. 

You don’t really know what you’re doing, of course. 

You are operating on the slim hope that if that flyer was sent to you with purpose…he will come to you at one of these places. So you leave your itinerary with the front desk, just in case your “friend” comes looking for you. Maricella, the bespectacled older woman at reception, accepts this routine with poorly disguised annoyance in this day and age of handheld computers that masquerade as phones, but she cheers a little every time you leave her a generous tip. 

Maybe it’s silly, but you’re finding your favorite part of having money is the freedom to spread it around. 

Though you haven't used your account in ages, you consider leaving breadcrumbs on your Facebook too, just in case. But that little fear in the back of your mind wins out, that maybe this is some kind of trap, so you decide not to project your movements that openly. 

At least, not yet.

You tell yourself that you’re not that desperate, yet, even if deep down that scratching feeling inside you only multiplies with every passing day that you do not find even the slightest clue of John. You search the faces in the crowd on the street, in the parks and museums and the fabulous restaurants, hoping. Truth be told, there is no shortage of lovely brown-eyed men in this city…but none of them are the right one. 

You go to El Ateneo Grand Splendid, marveling at the multi-story bookstore staged in a resplendent old opera house. You peruse the stacks slowly, praying that you will look up and see a familiar face. 

You tour the Japanese Garden, sitting on the bench when your feet hurt, looking around and thinking, John would love this place. 

You wander the Plaza de Mayo, marveling at the grand buildings, the pink Casa Rosada where the president headquarters, and the pleasant paths and plantings around the towering white Pirámide de Mayo obelisk, marking the beginning of Argentina’s bid for independence from Spain. 

You traipse through the museums of art and history, your attention only half engaged by the displays, even though MALBA contains one of the best collections of Latin American art under one roof. You do stop to give your attention to your old friend Frida. You remember the headlines when it sold for 33 million dollars not long ago, purchased by an Argentine businessman for the museum. It’s titled, “Diego y Yo,” one of Frida’s numerous self portraits, and you think, one of her more haunting. Her black hair frizzes free and wild across the canvas; her gaze daring. Diego Rivera’s likeness sits upon her forehead, her third eye, ever foremost in her thoughts.

The love of her life, and the source of her worst anguishes. 

You think you understand this piece better than ever, now.  

These excursions all end in disappointment, and the señora must see it all written on your face when you return to your hotel, exhausted inside and out. 

“You should never pin your happiness on a man,” she tells you, not looking up from her book where she sits behind the reception desk. “It only ends in heartbreak.” 

Are you that obvious? 

With a sigh, you nod, agreeing with her. “But how do you go back, when you know you’ll never be happy without them again?” you ask, hoping for some gem of advice in your time of need. 

“You have to stop lying to yourself, for one,” she answers frankly. “You don’t know what the future will bring.” 

This makes you smile a little, even if her words don’t really help, at least at that very moment. “Gracias, señora,” you say, making to climb the stairs up to your room. 

She huffs, as though she suspects you haven’t listened to her at all. “Sientate,” she orders you, pointing at a grouping of chairs in the courtyard connected to the lobby, then she disappears into the back. 

Puzzled, you do as you’re told. 

Your only other plans for the day were to sit in your room and cry, anyway.

Soon she re-emerges carrying two gourd cups with metal bombilla straws. You recognize the national drink, an herbal tea made of yerba-maté leaves. “You’ll feel better,” she says, setting it down in front of you. 

“Thank you.” 

You sit in silence for a while, waiting for it to cool. When she takes her first sip you do the same. It’s bitter, but not bad. An acquired taste, for sure. 

She breaks the silence with, “My country knows a thing or two about loss.”    

You nod, knowing it’s true. 

“You have to let it go, niña, or it will eat you alive. And what is the point of living like a ghost? The decision is yours, in the end.”

“I’m not ready,” you admit sadly, staring down into your guampa. 

“Well. You’d better get on with it. You seem like a nice girl.” 

You look across the table at this woman who does not know you, and yet somehow it seems she can see into your soul. You’re not exactly a fan of tough love, (who is?), but it’s more than your own mother was able to give you over the phone not so long ago. 

Are you still a nice girl? If she knew the things you did to survive one fateful night on a boat in the Caribbean, she might think otherwise. 

You sigh, tracing the metal rim of your cup. You appreciate the consideration this stranger has paid you, but you know, deep down, you can't. “I’ll think about it,” you say, if just to be polite. 

She pays you a look over her glasses that says she knows all too well, but she takes mercy on you with a slightly softened gimlet stare. “Sure you will.”

“Thank you for the maté.”

She waves you off with a smirk, like she knows you need to go crawl off into a hole and mope.

***

But you do think about what Maricella said, more than you actually want to. 

Are you just going to stay miserable forever and ever? 

You honestly don't know. 

You do know that you’re running out of places to go, and you’re running out of hope. 

You’re not exactly a religious person, but you find yourself wandering into the massive Catedral Metropolitana off the Plaza. Its neoclassical facade gives way to an opulent baroque interior, and its impossible not to feel an appropriate sense of awe. You walk around slowly, looking and thinking to yourself in the venerated quiet, the low murmurs of tourists and worshippers echoing through the cavernous space. 

In truth Catholicism has always felt a little like witchcraft to you. If you say the right magic words enough you can win forgiveness, the answers to your prayers, and maybe even salvation. At a side altar you buy a candle, lighting it and placing it with a cluster of others. 

You do not talk to God, per se…but you do talk to John. Whether it's healthy or not…he is the principal deity in your personal pantheon. 

Wherever you are…I hope you’ve found peace. I love you. I’ll always love you. 

When you leave, you can’t say it’s with a sense of closure or anything so helpful. But maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit of weight lifts off your shoulders. 

Maybe it’s time you stop chasing ghosts and go home, to your Dog who loves you and needs you, to your life that’s been on hold. If John was here…he would have come to you. You find you are able to admit that to yourself, now. You’ve done your due diligence. 

Maybe it's time to get back to the living. You find you are able to even think about giving yourself permission to do that now, in a way you just couldn’t, before. 

When you get back to the hotel you buy your return ticket to New York.

***

It does occur to you, now that you’re finally starting to accept the idea that John is truly gone, that someone sent you that flyer to lure you here, and that’s probably not a good thing in your world. You’ve been careful, and somehow so far you’ve skated by unscathed, though a part of you starts to wonder if you’re being watched. It’s a tingling little feeling on the hairs of the back of your neck that you mostly chalk off to paranoia, as you walk down the street. 

You decided you want to spend your last day in Buenos Aires at the epic Sunday street fair in San Telmo. It’s a neighborhood that dates back to the very beginnings of the city. Once the home of the first settlers, then the wealthy, then the wave of new immigrants from all over Europe at the end of the nineteenth century, now it is a bohemian enclave filled with markets and galleries and restaurants. 

It’s the only place on the brochure where you haven’t yet been. 

The stone cobbled streets are closed down for the feria. Market stalls line either side of the roads, and the crowd teems shoulder to shoulder. You marvel at the handmade goods on offer. Carved gourd maté cups and leather goods of all kinds, textiles and knickknacks and antiques. You didn’t think you wanted to shop so much as you just wanted to see it, but you find yourself infected by the energy of the crowd, and you are handing money over left and right for little things that tickle your fancy. 

A booth with silver jewelry set with natural stones takes you for most of the rest of your pocket money. You pick out a necklace set with pink rhodochrosite, the national stone of Argentina, a malachite inlay cuff bracelet for your housesitter back home, and pair of filigree earrings with dangling garnets that remind you of pomegranate seeds. You wear them immediately with a poignant pang in your heart.  

Tired and hungry after hours of wandering, you pick up a choripan sausage with bread and chimichurri sauce, and find a place to sit on the bench in the tree-shaded Plaza Dorrego. There are more booths here, and street performers as well. After you finish your late lunch you sit and watch a pair of dancers performing the Tango on a makeshift square of flooring set down for their stage. They’re beautiful, their movements sweeping and graceful yet so precise, full of the push and pull emotion that embodies the spirit of the mournfully romantic dance. She struts away, only to forcefully be pulled back again into his arms. Through twists and turns and dips and lifts, variations of the same struggle play out again and again. 

You wonder if the partners dancing are in love. They certainly make it seem like they are, but maybe it’s all for show. You find yourself hoping for a cynical moment, for their sakes, that their passion is all a facade. 

This thought sideswipes you. Are you going to turn into a bitter old woman now, cautioning youngsters against the dangers of love? 

If you could go back, would you caution yourself to love John less? 

You realize the answer is no. No matter how you feel now…all the anguish was worth the elation, even if you only possessed it for a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things. 

Just when you thought you’d managed to cry yourself dry, fat tears fill your eyes and you have to hide your face in your hands for a good long minute before you get ahold of yourself again. You’re quiet about it, but passersby are looking at you with worried expressions. You feel a supporting hand on your shoulder. Everyone is so sweet in this country. You’re going to miss it. “Estoy bien, todo bien, gracias, gracias,” you stammer with an apologetic smile, and they nod sympathetically, letting you be.  

Deciding it’s time to go back to your hotel, you gather your things and take a long pull off your water bottle. You’re fine. 

You’re going to be fine. 

If you keep telling yourself that, maybe eventually it will be true. 

You throw some money in the bowl for the dancers who ripped out your heart with the beauty of their performance, and make your exit. 

Yet, as you pick your way through the crowd to a less packed street, hoping to find a taxi…it starts to become apparent that you are not fine. Your limbs feel heavy, and you lean against the side of a stucco building, struggling for a deep breath. As your vision goes blurry at the edges and the darkness trickles in, your last thought is: Motherfucker, not again.

TBC...

-----

-all chapters buenos aires photo collage II

[xmintpiex]

The Bullet Point

wc: 3,721

Marriage and everything else that came with it were part of your dream. Not Sae's.

content: Sae Itoshi x fem!reader, sfw, sunshine!reader (she's def over the top), fluff, romance, childhood friends, shoujo inspired (specifically itazura na kiss), silly. AU.

The idea had sounded absolutely perfect when Mrs. Itoshi brought it up, the certainty in her voice, that twinkle in her eyes. Rin seemed to be all settled in his apartment now, and your dad had plenty of helping hands at his bakery. It was the perfect time to carry out the plan you had been dreaming about, tossing and turning and giggling with excitement late at night about for years now.

The plan, that dream that kept you going even when things got hard, when you felt sad and alone. The plan that Mrs. Itoshi fully supported you in, always coming up with the most brilliant ideas to add, Mr. Itoshi speaking up gently to maybe make them a little more realistic. The one that Rin would roll his eyes at and call you stupid over (he was just jealous! hmmph!). The one that your dad would shake his head fondly at, with amusement and that subtle pride in his smile.

Words written down in your old childhood diary, circled and doodled around, the page covered with hearts and stickers and the sign of age, yet still just as true.

So you bought that long one-way plane ticket from Japan to Spain that same day, spirits high and determination unbreakable. After all, Sae was all alone in that foreign land, left to fend for himself for so many years, you couldn't bear to leave him like that anymore! Now you finally had the chance to be there with him! Yes, that’s right, you would be there to cook his favorite meals (..the ones that fit his highly selected meal plan anyways..), make sure his luxury apartment wasn't just a house but a home (cozy pillows, photos, and matching toothbrush holders and so much more!), and cheer him on during each and every one of his games, in person now!

Your smile was still so bright as you somehow managed to hail a taxi driver at the airport with a mixture of your nonexistent Spanish and incredibly poor English (..perhaps you should have studied a little more...) and showed them the address that you had saved on your phone for months. The address that was memorized by heart, the one that you had already sent a plethora of letters and care packages to.

Your eyes were dazzling as you got out of the cab and stood in front of that sleek, beautiful apartment complex that Sae was residing in. You could hear your heart beating so fast at the thought of finally being able to see Sae after 4 months of being apart, and that this time it would be permanent, it wouldn’t be just another short visit. The apartment no longer just the photo pinned to your bedroom wall, your dreams no longer only confined to the touch of the glossy paper and magazine cutouts beneath your fingertips.

It was only when you got that panicked phone call from Mrs. Itoshi, as you were trying and failing to get the apartment complex’s security guard to let you in that your bright smile diminished a bit. Because Sae was not currently in Spain. He was in Germany, as was Rin, and would be there for at least a month due to some football event he had joined.

The twinkle in your eyes seemed to die a bit and your smile became so much smaller as you came to the sudden realization that you were in a foreign country, two large heavy suitcases at your side, with no understanding of the language and no place to stay. You sank to the ground, hugging your knees as you inhaled heavily to hold back your tears as fear clouded your thoughts.

But!

You would be okay because you had the power of a credit card! And just like that, you popped right back up, your determination burning brighter than the scorching sun above you (the young security guard might have been looking at you with a look of utmost fear, but that didn't really matter right now).

So you decided to go for a little walk around the neighborhood, taking in the fresh crisp ocean breeze, the sound of distant seagulls and crashing waves soothing your worries. Stopping for a delicious lunch at that cute little restaurant you spotted (giggling to yourself as you pictured eating there with Sae next time, oh so romantic!), noticing a cute little storefront that seemed to have been recently sold (perfect for a bakery you mused dreamily) before you managed to get another taxi to take you right back to the airport.

You miss how the security guard of Sae’s apartment complex so desperately tried to wave you back over, his black cell phone pressed to one of his ears as you excitedly looked at your trip itinerary for Germany in the back seat of the taxi.

The first thing Eita Otoya notices about you is your cute, sunny smile as he sits down next to you on the crowded plane and your excitement and relief at the realization that he also speaks Japanese. The second thing he notices is that dainty rose gold ring around your finger, twisted and dotted with little white diamonds, reminiscent of ocean waves in the sunset. It looks vaguely familiar, a small tickle in the back of his head that he can’t quite pinpoint. He assumes it must be some trendy designer jewelry piece he saw somewhere like that overly expensive bracelet that so many of his ex-girlfriends had wanted him to buy.

The third thing he notices about you is your soft, sparkly eyes, the light flush of your cheeks when he asks you if you have a boyfriend (he’s learned the hard way to always ask that question), and how you bashfully shake your head ‘no’. How cute. He assumes he’s in the clear then, to have you be his friend for a bit while he stays in Berlin, he’s already picturing taking you out to restaurants, enjoying a good meal together, having you cheer him on, and a bunch of other things with a cute girl like you at his side.

Eita Otoya does not notice the bubble of giddy laughter that is barely contained behind your bright smile, that far-off, dreamy look in your eyes after he had mentioned the term boyfriend. Because you definitely did not have a boyfriend.

Not anymore!

Rin Itoshi is already feeling a migraine forming from the grueling experience of having to sit between his two most obnoxious teammates on that 2-hour plane trip from Paris. He thinks he’s officially lost it, that he’s seeing hallucinations now because he swears he sees your dumb smiling face in the goddamn Berlin airport. Impossible. There's no way, even you aren't stupid enough to plan something like this, right?

…

Right?

…

Sae Itoshi’s manager thinks today is the day he will die. If not from the extreme levels of stress he is currently experiencing, it will be from Sae Itoshi’s cold wrath. The poor man is sweating, his normally pristine suit rumpled and drenched, sleeves rolled up, glasses sliding off his damp face as he has his phone pressed to his ear, laptop open as he desperately scrolls through credit card transactions and airline information.

Sae is still in the midst of his interview, answering bluntly and clinically in his typical manner yet his words seem even more curt than normal. Left foot subtly bouncing, hands locked together, cold teal eyes glancing back to his frantic manager between questions.

Immediately taking his phone out of his pocket the moment the cameras are turned off and everyone is packing up. Jaw clenching when the number he calls leads straight to voicemail.

It’s not until you’re at the hotel lobby (Otoya-kun's suggestion, oh he's so nice, you're so happy you made a new friend!), taking out your card to pay for your hotel room, it finally dawns on Otoya about where exactly he had seen your ring before. His eyes zeroing in on that very, very familiar name printed on the credit card in your hands.

Oh.

(Ninja Art: Strategic Exit)

You're done paying for your hotel room, excited to finally put your suitcases somewhere and then go eat at that amazing restaurant Otoya kept mentioning, turning to face him only to find him nowhere to be found. Brows furrowed and lips pouting in concern and confusion as you look around the hotel lobby, trying to figure out where your new friend could have gone.

"You."

That familiar voice, the one that you could recognize with your eyes closed, the one you sometimes fall asleep to while on facetime with. The voice engrained into your heart. Monotone and cold yet anything but (especially right now). Your smile is the brightest it's been all day, the brightest it's been in months really, suitcases and hunger and exhaustion (and Otoya-kun's mysterious disappearance) all forgotten from your mind as you rush over to him, flinging your arms around him.

"Sae!"

Your heart so warm, beating so brightly, so bubbly like your favorite fizzy candy. A feeling you've always felt with Sae.

Like when you were 6 and you dropped your ice cream cone.

You’re in absolute shock, ready to cry yet again and Sae does not want to deal with that again, he doesn't like it when you cry. You've had too many things to cry about recently, but at least this situation is something he can try to control. So he shoves his own ice cream cone into your hand, hoping that’ll be enough. It’s something he’s used to doing for his younger brother, just the most effective way to stop your nearly endless tears. Another crybaby in his life to take care of. Your small hands linked together as you walk around the neighborhood park, your shimmering eyes glued to him.

Or when you’re 8 and you and your dad and the Itoshi family go out for your weekly movie night.

An established ritual of going to see a movie together with reservations ready at that yummy restaurant later, something your families have done ever since you could remember. The movie was your choice this time, a story of a mermaid becoming a human princess and living in a seaside castle with her adorable sea creature friends and her beloved prince, fixing all their problems with the power of love and friendship.

Your eyes barely left the movie screen as they dazzled in excitement at how the mermaid princess and her human prince danced and spun around on that beautiful balcony overlooking the ocean. The warmth in your heart and the little tears of happiness that bubbled in your eyes as the prince and the mermaid got married.

You still weren’t too sure what marriage was, all you knew was that it meant you could sleep in the same bedroom like Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi did, that you would love each other forever, make each other happy forever, even if you couldn’t see each other (like how your dad visited your mama every year, a fresh flower bouquet, warm glossy eyes, and soft smiles). An endless playdate with your favorite person in the whole universe, always happy and together!

That was what you wanted, that was what you dreamed of. So you declared during dinner, a little too loudly in the quiet restaurant, that you had a dream of what you wanted to do as an adult. Clumsily standing up from your seat, nearly tipping your water cup over, face scrunched and rosy with determination and courage and too much soda.

Your declaration that you and Sae would get married when you were older and live in a seaside castle just like in the movie and live together forever and ever (and become mermaids and other such crucial details). Your small warm hand had gently grabbed Sae’s hand during your declaration and his teal colored eyes bore down at where your hands were linked. “Okay.” He had simply said in that monotone voice.

Your dad and Mr. Itoshi looked at you wide-eyed before laughing heartily, your dad reaching over to ruffle your head. Mrs. Itoshi nodded enthusiastically, overwhelmed by your absolute cuteness as she sniffled proudly, already calling you her precious, adorable daughter-in-law, already envisioning and planning a grand wedding as Mr. Itoshi gently rubbed her shoulder in hopes she wouldn't make this even more of a scene.

Rin grumbled and huffed and told you that was stupid, that something like that was impossible and even if it were, Sae wouldn’t live in some stupid seaside castle! His big brother would live in a football stadium with him, the two of them the #1 and #2 best strikers in the whole entire world!

You were pouty and your eyes full of tears, like the little crybaby you were as you bickered with Rin (h-how dare he! You were older! Hmmph! Why did he never listen to you as he did with Sae!). Sae was silent through the whole thing, still chewing on his bite of pasta, quiet as he usually was when the two of you harmlessly fought over him, his free hand still in your grasp. Until finally cutting in.

"We can do both."

Rin eventually agrees that you can have your castle across from their football stadium and that you can host your tea parties to celebrate every single game they will win. You reluctantly pout back that he can be a mermaid too and have sleepovers in your castle��if he listens to whatever you say!

Amongst the laughter and chatter and the sound of Mrs. Itoshi’s camera, as she forever immortalized this moment, Sae Itoshi added another minor detail to that small list of bullet points he kept in his head.

It’s when you’re 10 and you’ve made your first batch of homemade cookies all by yourself without the help of your dad (aside from helping you with the oven stuff).

Your fingers are a little burnt (and so are the cookies), but your eyes are sparkling, smile bright and hopeful as you rush off skipping to the neighborhood park to meet up with Sae and Rin, holding the little red cookie tin to your chest.

"They taste burnt."

Sae says matter-of-factly after a bite, chewing slowly as if that would help him make a proper critique.

"Yeah, they're burnt! Bleh! Burnt!"

Of course, Rin mimicking him before adding his own little flair.

Your lip wobbling, lashes fluttering slowly, eyes getting hot and wet with tears.

Sae reaching into the little tin for another one and then another until they're all gone, eating each one despite your tearful, pouty whines.

"They're not bad. Just keep making them, I'll eat all of them."

It's when you’re 13 and Sae is leaving.

Leaving to go live in a whole other country, away from you. Your tears are large and already seeping into Sae’s brand-new jersey as you wish and whine so badly that you could go with him. He’s quiet, and calm, telling you to stop being a big baby, saying he’ll be back for a visit in a few months probably. His hand in yours, a subtle squeeze, as his other hand gently pinches your pouty lips. You'll be good for him, right?

A little moment of hesitation before he suddenly leans in, cheeks just as red as yours, his lips clumsy and quick, a sweet little press against yours. Your eyes on him, wide and bubbly, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Your lips wobbling as you attempt to pucker them, looking up at him expectantly in hopes he will do it again.

He lets out that rare little noise you adore, that soft chuckle, the corner of his lips slightly upturned, only your silly face in his teal eyes. He leans in and you perk up excitedly, wanting to make sure your second kiss is perfect, longer, closing your eyes, hands trembling.

Only for him to pinch your lips again with his fingers.

"Crybabies don't get second kisses unless they're good."

And when you’re 14 and Sae is visiting for a few days.

It’s a cold winter day, full of fluffy white snow and you’re bundled up tight in the red scarf that Mrs. Itoshi gifted you. It’s just the two of you because Rin refuses to leave his room (he’s been in a really bad mood recently, you're still figuring out how to cheer him up..both of them up).

The two of you walk around the park as the snow falls, Sae is quiet, even more than normal, as you point things out or tell him about some of the things that have happened while he was gone. Your gloved hands are entwined, as always when the two of you walk. His hand feels different, a little bigger, a little thinner, a little more rough, just like the rest of him. His teal eyes are dull, trained on the snowy path you walk, before settling onto your obnoxious beaming smile, the flush of your cheeks, the way he looks reflected in your eyes.

Pulling him to go sit on a snowy bench before taking out that familiar old cookie tin, full to the brim of sugar cookies, sprinkled with red and blue sprinkles, edges a little cracked.

"I'm on a diet, you know."

Yet he's reaching for one, pressing the allegedly "heart-shaped" cookie to his lips and taking a slow bite. Your eyes watching every little moment of his mouth, your heart beating nervously and your gloved hands fisted with nervousness.

"Better than last time."

Your smile too bright, it could rival the sun.

He reaches for another only to be tugged down, his lips unceremoniously pressed against yours, too sudden, your nose nearly hitting his. Crumbs still on his lips, now on yours. Sweet like vanilla and butter.

So perfect.

It’s when you’re 16, having another one of your long-distance phone calls.

You babble endlessly as always, phone pressed to your ear as your legs sway back and forth as you lay on your plushie-covered bed. Sae, as usual, is mainly silent as he continues with his gym routine, responding with an occasional grunt or ‘hmm’ as you go on and on. His ears full of nothing except the clinking of gym equipment and your loud, cheery voice. You mention your new friend who you’re going to the movies with this weekend, the boy at your school who offered you his umbrella on a rainy day (so kind!), and who always wants to eat lunch with you.

"Didn't you fail your math test? Don't waste your time on stupid things like that and study instead."

"..S-Sae!!" (As usual…he was right.)

A few days later you receive a small package from Spain, sent via express mail, a little silver ring, and a simple four-word note.“Do not take off.”

You're ecstatic, showing off to everyone who will listen (and Rin of course). Spamming Sae's messages with way too many selfies. Your hand and that sparkling little ring the main focus in all of them, receiving nothing back but that little 'read' indication and a single "go study" message.

It's when you're 17, sat at the Itoshi's kitchen table.

Going through the recent sports magazine that Sae graced the cover of, your handy scissors at your side as you happily recount Sae's most recent interview to those present.

(Your smile too wide as you trace over that familiar silver ring that's hung around his neck, barely visible under his jersey, fingertips against the cold, glossy paper.)

Rin with his arms crossed and trying to look as disinterested as possible while Mrs. Itoshi happily nods from where she's typing away at her work laptop. But you give Rin that smile that always makes him huff, nervous at whatever dumb thing you're going to do now, seeing him twitch and try to hide his flustered look as you produce a second magazine of the same issue, still in its plastic wrap.

"This way you can cut out Sae's pictures and have them on your wall too! Let's make dream boards together, Rin!"

"S-shut up!"

It's right now, years later, settled in the back seat of the car as the driver drives the two of you back to where Sae is staying, your head on Sae's shoulder.

You're already fast asleep, your exhaustion, the happiness of your heart catching up with you (and the jet lag). Hands entwined. Matching wedding rings glowing under the bright passing city lights, the softness of the moon.

His phone is silenced, lighting up for a moment, the notification of his new interview being posted, before the screen fades back to darkness, tucked away in his bag next to that red cookie tin you had excitedly taken out of your suitcase. For now, the interview was irrelevant, forgotten in the midst of your peaceful snores, his soft, amused smile.

But in the morning, when Sae was already well into his morning routine, you would be cozy and warm and still so sleepy under the silky covers. He would then take the time, sat at the small hotel room patio with his kombucha, to skim over his interview.

'Sae Itoshi Confirms Marriage Rumors.'

He knew that once you woke up, once your sleepy, jet-lagged state gave way to your usual bubbly energy, you'd be over the moon. Squealing and giggling and saying how you needed to save the article in your scrapbook. Nearly jumping on him as you showered him in too much affection, messy little kisses, and cheeks pressed together. Undeniable proof of your dream coming true, solid like that ring around your finger, like the marriage certificate framed back in the apartment in Spain.

Your dream.

But not Sae's.

Because for Sae, marriage was not a dream, not some goal he would eventually achieve when he deemed it time. It had never been any of that. You and your overly burning love, your too-radiant smiles and laughter, your crybaby tears, your warm hugs, and noisy kisses, and sweet sugar cookies were just truths. Undeniable facts in his life. Your presence in his life, your relationship never a dream, never a goal, never a checkmark, but a bullet point. A bullet point on that little list of things that were fundamental to Sae Itoshi's life.

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 12.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: None! SFW. Just pure fluff! (English is not my native language) If you squint your eyes, it contains brief reference to Dec.9 (Whip Stroke)

Summary: Just Dean taking care of his clingy morning honey-badger. <3

Words: 800

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: After we had Dean's deadbeat mode yesterday, I felt like it's readers turn for sleepy-grouchy-mode and getting pampered. Maybe mornings aren't that bad after all

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

12th Dec. - My entire world

“Rise and shine.”

Nope you think to yourself and roll over to the side.

“Up - c’mon, sunshine.”

You grumble something and pull the blanket over your head.

Dean sighs and leans down to pull the blanket back again. You protest by whining terribly and tugging at it, trying to disappear under it. Dean can’t help but chuckle at your futile attempt to bury yourself in the heap of blankets and pillows. He sticks his head in between you and the blanket he’s now holding at bay with his right hand. He nuzzles his face into your curled up form, “C’mon sunshine” he mutters in between your grouchy sounds, “You gotta get up.”

“I don’t wanna… leave meee,” you whine, and the words come out almost like a warning.

Dean raises his eyebrows at your disgruntled tone but otherwise stays unfazed. He sighs again, “Okay, that’s it.” He declares with a rumbling voice.

He slides his left arm under your waist and grabs one of your hands to pry it away from the strangled blanket in your tight grip. You squirm and protest and snap at him with threatening words. He rolls his eyes in silence and proceeds to wrap one of your free arms around his neck while he carefully pulls you closer. “Hold on,” he mutters against your struggling form, the words almost drowned out by a hail of curses.

He grunts when your knee connects with his stomach. His grip around your waist briefly tightens to keep you from wiggling out of his arms, “Jesus, will ya stop fightin’ me like a demon?”

Before you know it, he lifts you off the bed and you instinctively hold onto his neck for dear life. “You done cursin' me out?”

You mutter a tiny ‘yes’.

“Good.”

He moves his other arm under your bum to push you further up into his chest while he holds you close with a strong hand on your lower back. You cling to him with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and your legs locked behind his back.

“Damn little koala.” He mutters gruffly, but his tone has no bite. With a little shove, he tugs your head under his chin where you immediately bury your face to escape the bright light. You feel the rumble of his chest when he chuckles lightly, amused by the way you curl up on his arm like some oversized puppy. Without you noticing, he carefully pulls his phone out to snap a picture of you. One purposely stupid and unflattering one to tease you with later, and one cute one, just for himself.

Meanwhile you are caught in your own peaceful world. Your nose nuzzles against his skin, sniffing the scent of his natural musk. A low hum stirs inside you as you’re taking in the familiar scent like it’s the best fragrance in the whole world. The smell of your own safe haven. Only meant for you.

He starts to make his way to the kitchen, all the while carrying your clinging form like a big koala. He bounces you up and down slightly, to keep you from dozing off again. But you do nonetheless, leaving a little drool on his shirt.

Dean glances down at you, his eyes going soft at your half-asleep face, not minding the stain at all. To him you always look so peaceful like this. So beautiful. And to be honest, even though you’d always act like a grumpy honey-badger in the morning, he secretly loves it when you are clingy like this. It’s one of the rare moments where he for once gets to pamper you. To hold you close and save from everything evil. Even if he’d never admit any of this out loud.

Just then you snuggle into him and his heart skips a beat. To him it feels like he's holding his entire world in his arms. And he doesn't ever want to let you go again. He subtly tightens his wrapped arms around you, making sure your legs don't slip off his hips.

While he gets you two into the kitchen, he shakes you awake again, earning himself a disgruntled groan of yours.

He huffs and rolls his eyes with a teasing smile. “If you weren’t this cute I’d spank your ass for that tantrum.” He pauses and his eyebrows pull together in mock-annoyed amusement, “No wait, you might actually like that.”

You grumble something along the line of ‘screw you’ into the crook of his neck which makes him crack a cheeky smile.

“You want coffee?” He tilts his head down next to you, trying to coax you out of the crook of his neck. You briefly shake your head with a mumbled ‘no’. Dean’s smirk widens and he places a gentle kiss on your head. “Choccy milk it is then.”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[ask-pjo-hoo-toa]

ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ ~ ᴘ. ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ

req. hiii can i please request a percy jackson x fem!reader? daughter of aphrodite, loving sunshine kind of girl, plot based off ‘wonderland’ by taylor swift?

summary. you and percy got lost in wonderland and life was never better.

warnings. use of (y/n), cussing, kinda short??

eeli0r's notes. this one was, i'll admit, a little tricky lol, but super fun! (y/n) and percy are both 17-ish. thanks @riordanness for the ask! also some parts are inspired by 6 times we almost kissed (and one time we did) by tess sharpe

june twenty-third

you and percy were best friends. you did (almost) everything together and you'd defend each other no matter the cost.

you were sitting around the campfire, having a grand ol' time. you were laughing and singing and you and percy could barely breathe because you were laughing so hard.

you know how aphrodite is with seeing people who don't know they're in love. and you know how she is when it's her daughter.

so she looked at you for a long moment before smiling down from olympus, waving a hand, and sitting back to watch the scene.

suddenly percy stopped laughing. he stared at you for a long moment, simply gawking in awe of your practically sparkling appearance, and gradually the sounds around you came to an eerie silence.

gasps from the audience. you blinked before looking up, and fluttering above your head was the hologram of a white dove.

"aphrodite," breathed percy.

chiron cleared his throat. "all hail (y/n), the daughter of the goddess of love and beauty!"

"holy shit, (n/n)," percy said, and chiron sent him a warning glance but no way in hell was his attention diverted like that. "you're...wow. wow. you're...stunning."

and he was right. you were stunning. suddenly the most beautiful person at the campfire, though percy would argue you were that already.

july seventh

percy didn't know how to tell you. you were the daughter of aphrodite, for fuck's sake, and he wasn't sure you could ever retaliate feelings for him.

there was something about you. you were so incredibly caring, so bright and smiley whenever he was around, it was hard not to catch feelings.

he asked his friends for advice, and the main thing they could give him was "don't rush into things."

as percy walked up to you, alone in the archery range, his eyes flashed with something you couldn't quite place.

he took a deep breath. "hey," he said, putting on a casual tone and a smile.

you smiled back. and fuck, you had a smile that could light up tartarus. "hi!" you greeted him.

little did he know you'd liked him since you'd met him. and when he didn't notice, you looked at him like he was the one that put the stars in the sky.

percy's stomach flipped as it sunk in what he was about to say. "soo," he started, trying to play it cool though he knew he was probably red in the face. "i just wanted to say....um....i think you're really beautiful," he blurted out. "i mean, um, i mean --- "

you cut him off. "do you mean 'you're my friend and i think you're really beautiful' or 'you're beautiful and i kinda wanna date you?'"

percy blinked. "...the latter?" he said.

your brain took a moment to process this. percy jackson. liked. you back.

you didn't see yourself as beautiful. so how could he?... he was the popular, hot son of poseidon.

and you were...what?

as if reading your mind, percy said, "you're gorgeous. loving. happy. what is there not to like?"

you opened your mouth to speak, but he spoke first. "can i be your boyfriend?" he asked.

you fidgeted. "what if i do something wrong?"

percy grinned, something like that of the cheshire cat. (we love a poet without knowing it) "then we'll talk about it, (y/n)." he threw one arm to the left side, the grin slowly fading. "wait for a second while i make a point. that is the tension that's always been there." he threw his other arm to the right side. "that is what we could be. see? that's, like, big progress.

his arms are wide; beckoning.

you took a quick glance to the left, right, behind, and close the gap. "big progress?" you say teasingly. "big grammar."

percy pokes you in the forehead. "you're not a daughter of athena. shhh."

after a long moment of gazing, percy is the one that breaks first.

his lips press against yours and you know it's always been this, this kairos, the fleeting rightness of the moment that it would happen.

the atmosphere around you seemed to change as you kissed. first a dark scene, then a cabin-like room, then a vine-covered undergrowth with a small door that might've been big enough for a rabbit.

in that moment, you decided you wanted to be like silena.

minus the dying part. that would not be fun.

the last thing --- hell, it didn't even make the list --- you wanted to do was break percy's heart. that would be just horrible; you loved him.

september eleventh

you and percy had been dating for two, three-ish months now, and it had been basically wonderland.

if there were a hundred people who loved percy jackson, you were one of those people, and vice versa.

if there was one person who loved you, it was percy jackson, and vice versa.

if no one loved either of you, both of you never existed and never would exist.

you went to the same school and made sure of that. and as your pinky hooked around percy's, followed by your whole hand, your boyfriend marvelled at the touch.

you can do this now, he reminded himself. you can reach out and touch her and she'll kiss you and you won't have to run away from her or yourself or any feelings.

life was never better in wonderland, and it could never be better when you had each other by your side.

[enhadiares]

“GAME OVER”

Chapter 1 | Let the game begin

👾A/N: I AM FINALLY STARTING A SERIES! It's very exciting but since it's my first time after my hiatus so I hope you guys like it!

👾Pairing: enha x fem!reader

👾Warning: This is all fictional!

👾Synopsis: Bound within the confines of a virtual realm, a group of friends must decipher its mysteries to secure their freedom. Amidst the labyrinth of challenges, they encounter a formidable adversary - a lurking shadow who controls their fate. As alliances fracture and betrayals unfold, they must confront not only the puzzles of the game but also the sinister presence that seeks to keep them imprisoned. Only by overcoming both external threats and internal conflicts can they hope to break free from the shadows within the game

A new dawn breaks in one of the bustling state of the United States, with the sun casting its usual bright rays, offering a glimmer of hope to some for a better day ahead.

Amidst it, boredom creeps in, despite the anticipation of summer vacations being fun and exhilarating, right?

Well, not for you.

The shrill ring of your black device snaps you out of your reverie, prompting you to answer.

"Look who's on the line! It's the white sheep!" you exclaim upon picking up the call.

"Why the crankiness, woman? I called because we're considering checking out the new arcade that recently opened" Jungwon, the young man, explains.

"A new arcade? Count me in!" you reply eagerly, rising from your seat with excitement finally brewing. You've always adored arcades and never shy away from expressing it.

"Alright, my lady, come over to my place at 5, and we'll head out together" he chuckles at your enthusiasm.

"Sure thing, Mr. Sheep Garden" you retort playfully before hanging up. You flop onto your bed, letting out a scream into your pillow while kicking your feet in the air.

Now, that's what a vacation should feel like.

••••••

The following day dawns, and you wake up a bit later than usual due to the excitement from the previous night hindering your sleep.

After completing your morning routine in the bathroom, you emerge in a robe, pondering over what to wear.

After much deliberation, you settle on a stunning Y2K fashion ensemble.

Once dressed, you gaze at your reflection in the mirror, feeling thoroughly satisfied with the result.

Hailing an Uber, you head to Jungwon's house as planned, the journey taking approximately 15 minutes.

Upon arriving at the house, you press the doorbell, and a familiar face greets you with a beaming smile.

"She's here, guys!!" he announces excitedly, his happiness infectious.

"Didn't expect such a warm welcome! You're like a ray of sunshine, so bright" you remark, sharing in his enthusiasm.

This is Sunoo, the embodiment of cheerfulness within the group. His actions are naturally endearing, and his voice resonates like that of an angel.

"Hey, what's the hold-up? Let her in first" another voice interjects, followed by a playful tap on Sunoo's head.

It's Jay, the nurturing figure of the group, known for his caring nature and impeccable sense of style. Though he plays the role of the group's guardian, his fashion choices exude sophistication and elegance, earning him admiration from all.

With a smile, you step into the house, unaware of the lurking presence in the shadows nearby.

Inside, the rest of the group awaits, each offering their own unique greeting as you enter.

Jake bounds toward you like an excited puppy, his invisible tail wagging with joy as he envelops you in a tight hug.

"Calm down, Layla's dad" you giggle, reciprocating his affection.

Sunghoon follows with a firm handshake, his demeanor as cool as ice, a nod to his past figure skating exploits , but he doesn't lack warmth nor humour.

"Oh yes, Mr. Icy" you wink, returning his handshake with equal firmness.

"Look here comes the sheep" you proclaim with a hint of sass as Jungwon greets you with a lively laugh, his playful demeanor belying his natural leadership qualities.

"Call me something cool, woman, 'sheep' sounds so childish" he teases, adding to the playful banter.

Next is Niki, the youngest of the group, greeting you with a wide smile and a brotherly hug. "Yessir," you both exclaim simultaneously, sharing a bond forged in mischief and camaraderie.

Finally, Heeseung, the group's ace, joins in, his mastery evident in everything he does.

"What are you waiting for, Bambi boy?" you jest, opening your arms for a hug, which he accepts with a smile.

As the group settles in, a figure emerges from the bushes outside, a smirk playing across their lips.

"All the players are assembled," they declare with a hint of mischief.

And with that, the stage is set.

Let the game begin.

[adventuresofalgy]

It had rained heavily all night in the wild west Highlands of Scotland, and when Algy woke up in the morning the world was obscured by dense, grey Scotch mist again, and there were new pools of standing water everywhere.

But as the day advanced the air began to clear, and the water simply vanished – with remarkable speed – in the mysterious manner peculiar to this land where the higher ground is surrounded by deep peat bogs and drained by multiple burns that flow swiflty into the adjacent sea.

And by the time that Algy was ready to settle down with a good book of verse for some light Sunday afternoon reading, the wind had swung right round from the chilly north to the milder south, and a little watery sunshine was breaking through the clouds, albeit reluctantly.

So Algy returned to the old garden bench, tucked himself tightly into one corner, and opened his heavy volume at a random page, where by chance he read:

O THOU with dewy locks, who lookest down Through the clear windows of the morning, turn Thine angel eyes upon our western isle, Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring! The hills tell one another, and the listening Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turn'd Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth And let thy holy feet visit our clime! Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls Upon our lovesick land that mourns for thee. O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head, Whose modest tresses are bound up for thee.

[Algy is reading the poem To Spring by the late 18th/early 19th century English poet William Blake.]

[classicrocknlove]

~Jimmy Page Fanfiction~

Spread Your Wings

“I’m just looking for an angel with a broken wing…. But somehow, they always seem to fly, fly away…”

-

Chapter Five

July 27th, 1973.

Performance Day, Concert #1.

-

Cynthia’s P.O.V.

I wake up with a horrible migraine, drenched in sweat. I was so out of it last night, I had forgotten to turn on the portable air conditioner. New York’s sweltering heat radiated in my small bedroom and I felt as if I was going to get heat stroke. I hurried out of bed, looked at the clock, turned the air on in hopes that the room would be cooled down by the time I got out of the shower.

My clothes from last night laid thrown across my bedroom floor as I padded to my bathroom. I shook my head and looked in the mirror at the mess of a girl in front of me.

My dark eye makeup was sloppily smeared around my eyes, making me look a bit racoon-like, my face thick with shiny sweat and left-over makeup powder.

I groaned as my headache worsened by the bright sunshine seeping in through my curtains and throw myself into the shower, in fear of being late to the venue.

The band would be rehearsing again today before the first concert, and I was hoping to get an interview with Bonzo before they got on stage tonight.

My mind wavered quickly from the group to its lead guitarist.

As the hot shower water beat down on me, I couldn’t help but get goosebumps just thinking about Jimmy and I’s encounter last night.

Gosh, he is driving me insane. Just thinking about his words, how he said them, how he knew just where to touch, it was all too much. I didn’t even have to be around him to get that tingly jolt through my body. Thoughts of him were enough.

I didn’t understand why I particularly felt this way about him. There was this mystique about him, something inexplicable, and I craved more. I don’t even remember feeling this way about Jack, even when we first met and began dating. Granted I was very young, I was twenty-one, and a virgin may I add. Yes, the latest bloomer that has ever lived. So, for me to have these uncontrollable feelings… desires… thoughts about Jimmy, are abnormal for me.

I finish my shower, trying my best to push Jimmy out of thoughts for the time being. I cannot keep focusing on this. But, I decide I do need to talk to him about… everything. God, what do I even say? How will I even get a word out when speaking with him? He either makes me so flustered it’s hard to speak, or so angry that I run away. There hasn’t been a happy medium with him thus far.

I begin to think about what personality he will portray today as I get dressed for the day.

Who am I kidding, I cannot get him off of my mind! I am SCREWED!

I throw some wrangler jean short-shorts on, pairing those with a cropped pink tank top and a white cropped sweater, finishing with a pair of white keds, in case Manhattan’s morning air is crisp this morning.

I decide to just let my hair and makeup fling natural today, the interest of putting that effort into my look was absent today. Natural it is.

I take a small bag of a change of clothes, extra pens, my recorder, and any necessary items I may need. It’s going to be a long day and night.

I grab my writing pieces and pick up my clothes off the floor before hauling ass out of my apartment door and bounding down the flights of stairs to hail a cab.

I thought about calling Richard, or Peter to see if they set up alternate transportation for me, but I decided I’d rather just get the venue on my own time, with my own transportation. Anyway, I don’t think I’d be able to handle a surprise visit from Jimmy showing up in the limo anyway. That seems like something he’d do. Always a mystery.

I successfully land a cab that takes a screeching halt onto the curb of the pavement and I hop in and the old, bearded man operating the vehicle hurries off to Madison Square Garden making me clutch the vinyl clad back seat.

We finally reach the Garden and I’m shaking in boots as I walk up to the back doors of the arena.

I reach for handle of the back doors that lead to the backstage, and it’s locked. I look through the small crack of the door and see Richard down the corridor. I start to knock on the glass of the back door profusely, trying to get his attention. Luckily it does and he starts striding to the door, and lo and behold, Jimmy is trailing closely behind him. Oh God.

“Cynthia, we weren’t expecting you this early! We knew you had a… night.” Richard states with a slight smirk on his face. They’ve probably all been gossiping about it since this morning.

“Yes, well, better early than late.” I weakly smile and give Jimmy a glance. Richard looks between the two of us and starts to walk forward, leaving the two of us alone.

I figure Jimmy would start the dreaded conversation about what happened last night but he doesn’t. He gives me a look, a look I cannot quite decipher and turns on his heels to walk away.

“Jimmy?” I question and he turns back around.

“Cynthia.” He nods and I furrow my eyebrows. He has a different look on his face than usual, very nonchalant and avoidant. I think I am being introduced to another one of his personalities, among the thousand others I’ve met so far.

“Uhm, so… about last night-” I start and his eyes flash with a hint of awareness but he quickly masks his emotions and talks.

“What about it?” He asks, as if nothing happened.

“Erm, well, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for what I did, or didn’t do. Or said, or… didn’t say. It was all kind of a blur.” I tell him, my words stammering out. Why am I always so nervous around him?!

“Why are you sorry?” He asks, looking genuinely curious.

“Well, just, our, kiss, the bathroom. And just the whole night was a bit-“ I am explaining, but he interrupts me as usual.

“So, what about it?” He asks again, seeming impatient and disinterested with my confessions.

“Well, I just, I never do that, drink like that and then we kissed and I-“ the words are blubbering out faster than I can even think about them and Jimmy interrupts me, for the second time today.

“Cynthia, what are you on about? So what if we kissed. Everyone does. This shouldn’t change anything.” Oh.

He shrugs and is still looking at me with that unconcerned face. The hasty moment had been replaying in my head since last night, Jimmy’s lips and hands on me, whispering dirty things into my ear.

I had been thinking about him, dreaming about him, and he thinks of it, of me, as nothing. God I am so stupid. He is so stupid. What was I thinking even going last night?!

“I have to go rehearse. Is there anything else pressing?” He asks, his hand making gestures to match his words. I want to suddenly shrink down into a hole and hide from the world.

I shake my head and watch him walk away, his long, long legs carrying him down the long hallway toward backstage.

I mentally curse myself for even approaching the situation. Of course he wouldn’t care. Why would he? We kissed, everyone does, just like he said. It meant nothing, it is nothing.

He has a girlfriend, a child, back home, who’s apparently just left him, Cynthia. What are you thinking? He’s got bigger issues than worrying about a smitten journalist whom will be out of his life by the end of the week.

I walk along the rest of the hallway, past the dressing rooms I’m oh-so familiar with, and trudge to the backstage area where everyone is mingling, setting up for the rehearsal.

The bustling scene in front of me was no stranger to me, I had been around plenty of bands at their rehearsals, their crew, the roadies, constantly maneuvering, fixing, and straightening everything-musical. It seemed like a miserable job, being so close TO the band, but not WITH the band. It seemed as if the roadies had no real respect from everyone, just expected to do their jobs and that was it. I suppose I should start treating this job as such to. I got ahead of myself yesterday, last night, and I regret it now.

I start flipping through my notes and writing down little tidbits of the setting of Madison Square Garden when a hand touches my shoulder.

“Hey, you.” I hear… Robert.

“How are you feeling, darling? Rough patch last night?” Robert asks and I sigh. So, does everyone know about my drunken stupor? I wonder if they know about Jimmy and I’s covert rendezvous in the ladies restroom…

“Yes, I’m fine. Very excited for the show tonight. Have never seen you guys live.” I tell him and he smiles.

“Yes, it ought to be a great show. Sold out!” He informs me and I nod in amazement. They had really gotten huge in the last few years.

Just then, a roadie came by, seemingly looking for Robert, telling him he is demanded on stage right now.

Robert raises his eyes and eyebrows at me and says his goodbye before rushing off to the dim stage. I watch him and his skinny hips stroll away, his shirt is never long enough to cover them. But, the style works for him and I praise his confidence.

I turn around and spot the breakfast table, a few pieces of fruit and some scones scatter the table, I suppose what is left over from the early morning.

I make my way to it and place a few pieces of cantaloupe on a plate and listen to the rhythm of the music that begins to blare through the arena. I walk to the side of the stage and spot the four men.

I walk closer, almost standing side by side with a huge mound of amps, double my size in heighth, and watched in reverence at band as they played.

Robert’s beautiful wailing, Jonesy’s perfect rhythm, Bonzo’s perfect timing, I couldn’t help but to notice how perfect Jonesy and Bonzo flowed together.

But, my eyes became glued to him. Jimmy’s fast and strong hands, long pale fingers, working against the six string instrument had me in a daze. His body moved with the rhythm, his head bobbing at the tempo of each song. I noticed his slight grinding, his racy hips, moving with the beat and I couldn’t help myself but feel that heat between my legs again.

Suddenly, he looks over and gives me that familiar smirk and a wink, and now my body formed new sweat at the realization that he knew. He knew I was watching him and I couldn’t have been more perturbed at the thought of it.

He had just dismissed me, dismissed our actions of last night, now here I was, making his head even bigger by fawning over him and his playing.

I was lousy at hiding my attentiveness to him and decided to walk away and start on my story.

I remember Bonzo and I had made a pact to do an interview today, before the first show of course, and I was hoping he’d still be up for it after rehearsal.

As I sat on a slightly raised piece of wood on the floor, with my reading glasses low on the bridge of my nose, writing away, I didn’t notice that the strong vocals, raging bass, and twangy guitar strumming had ceased It was just Bonzo banging away at his drums like a madman.

I also didn’t notice HIS appearance behind me until I heard the clearing of a throat and I turned to look over my shoulder and there he was, damp and shiny and in all his glory.

“Anything spellbinding in there?” Jimmy pokes at me as he sits down on a chair, his body stationed higher above mine as I sat, barely lifted off the floor with my knees cradled to my chest, holding up my notebook.

“Nothing you’d be interested in.” I roll my eyes and he nods in agreement.

“Probably so. Come, let’s go somewhere.” He gets up abruptly, pulling my arm up with him and I protest.

“No! What do you think you are doing?” I ask him in disbelief. He drags me toward the long passageway that I have walked up and down for what seems like a hundred times in the past twenty four hours. I drop my pen in the interim and look back at it as if I was a young child who just dropped their favorite teddy.

“Jimmy, let go of me!” I tug against his strong hold on my arm but its no use. He is too powerful, his long fingers wrapped easily around my tiny wrist.

We finally reach the forced landing place, his dressing room, and I scowl at him as he pulls me into the space and closes the door.

I back away into the middle of the room, flashbacks of Jimmy pinning me to the wall yesterday keeping me on high alert, making certain I won’t be trapped again.

“What is this about?” I ask him sternly, my disturbed look never leaving my face. He has some damn nerve.

“Just wanted to go somewhere more private. You know, we haven’t really gotten to properly know each other yet. Wasn’t that your goal, anyway?” He apprises me as he casually pours himself a mix of orange juice and vodka, mostly vodka.

“You haven’t exactly made that easy for me to do.” I tell him, and I mean it. The last twenty four hours have been some of the most stressful hours of my life, but also some of the most exhilarating.

“Well, friendship isn’t always a walk in the park, Cynthia.” He says and I am now more confused than ever.

“Friendship?” I ask him, not knowing to whom and or what friendship he was referring to.

“Yes, friends. That is what I’d have to consider you to share even the slightest details to you for your little publication you’ll write about us- have been writing about us.” He advises me, staring at me intently from across the room, bringing his plastic cup to his lips, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Well, for starters, friends are supposed to be kind to one another.” I inform him, making it clear that I think he is a jerk. I also begin to wonder about the things we did, our kiss, the dirty words, is that how he treats all his “friends”? I’m disturbed by my thoughts of being grouped along with every other girl who has ever gotten naughty with Jimmy Page. His voice rips me away from my thoughts.

“Hm… I haven’t been proper with you thus far, Cynthia?” He asks, his crooked smirk spreading across his pink lips, knowing damn well he has NOT been- not even in the slightest.

“Not exactly.” I retort with a scoff. He is ready to strike again before I interrupt him.

“Look. I am here for one reason and one reason only. To do my job. That is to talk with you four, get to know you, get to know how the tour has been, maybe what projects you are setting your sights on next. I am not here to argue or burst into tears every time I come around. I just want to get through the next couple of days, and then I will be out of your hair…. Okay?” I ask him, out of breath from my slight rant. He narrows his eyes at me, a slight toothy smile popping from him.

“What had you bursting into tears, love?” He asks with an amused look and I roll my eyes. I said embarked all of that and that is what he decides to comment on?! I am embarrassed by my unfiltered confessional I had just indulged him in, making him aware about my crying episode yesterday after our altercation in his dressing room.

“Ugh, bye Jimmy. Let me know when you are ready to be serious about this.” I tell him and swiftly move around the couch he placed his white-jean clad butt on. He looks so desirable perched in his wide-legged white pants and black t-shirt that was sticking to him from his sweat. God, white is a nice color on him. How can he look so good… but be so BAD?

“That may take a while!” He exclaims before I could slam the door. I couldn’t get away from his dressing room door fast enough. I fast-walk back down the corridor toward the large backstage area and approach the band, who is now lingering around a freshly stocked brunch table, but were only hovering around the booze.

“Cynthia. Thought we may have had to poach you from wherever you disappeared to last night. Come, enjoy!” Jonesy exclaims and I smile and nod. I pick up a small scone and place it on a napkin, even though my appetite was completely gone and has been placed with hardened uncertainty of what may become of the next couple of days.

Bonzo tells me we may have time right before the show to do a quick rundown of questions I have for him and I agree, looking forward to speaking with him.

But my thoughts remain on Jimmy. I don’t see him even giving me the temperature outside if I asked him, let alone a damn interview. What was I going to do? Paul was counting on me and his voice began to echo in my head like nails on a chalkboard.

That reminds me, I need to call him. I nearly groan out loud of the idea of calling Paul and hearing his unabating, annoying voice. But, I told him I’d call him and I had to keep my word with Paul if I wanted to keep my job. It was around eleven now, I’m sure he is in the office by now.

I drag myself to the nearby phone that is in a secluded corner backstage and dial the office’s number.

—

A/N

Chapter five is here!

Hope everyone is enjoying this story so far. Chapter six will be coming shortly, with a bit of a twist for all of you…. I look forward to sharing it very soon!

Please feel free to show all your support. I really enjoy the responses and support to each chapter! Thank you❤️

[strawberrylemonparade]

DEMO: TBA

"A wise man travels to discover himself." - James Russell Lowell

Politics.

pol*i*tics: the activities associated with governance of a country or other area, especially the debate or conflict among individuals or parties having or hoping to achieve power.

Politics is a dangerous game, right? Has it always appeared as such? Is such a saying even the truth? Has it always been a cruel world or are those just the words of a being who believes the world owes them everything.

Intrigue.

in*trigue: the secret planning of something illicit or detrimental.

There's something lurking in the shadows, something that seeks to call your name. Will you heed the voice that calls to you? Will you run from it or will you face it and unmask it? What will you do in the moment when it all counts?

Murder.

mur*der: the unlawful premeditated killing of one human being by another.

You were there. You saw it. You saw it all. You saw the gunshot. You heard it ring in your ears. You knew. You knew that you would be next. You knew you had to do something. So you ran. Look back or don't, the choice is wholly yours to make.

Washington D.C. is a utopia of the rich and wealthy. It's the heart of the cog that helps keep the beautiful nation of the United States running. For as long as you can remember, you've always witnessed the greatness and ugliness of the world of politics.

After all, you're a member of The First Family. As such, many people see that your life is centred and created with gold as if Midas was your personal assistant. It's actually more like silver, but what do they know?

One unfortunate and unforeseen night causes the silver spoon in your mouth to begin to tarnish. Now you must run to uncover the truth before it's too late.

Brace yourself as politics, murder, and conspiracy set their eyes on you. The nation also has their eyes on you and your whereabouts or at least they're trying desperately to find you.

Meet interesting characters along your journey of survival, even find love in the face of impending death. Will you become the hunter or stay and live life as the hunted? Don't forget to lace up your shoes and don't trip over the space that's in between it all. Where will you go next?

'A Map Between' is an action-packed thriller with the occasional bit of humour. The current rating is 17+.

🗺️ A customisable MC including: gender or the lack thereof, physical appearance, sexuality and more.

🗺️ Romance 1 of 6 love interests (3 females, 2 males and 1 selectable non-binary). Wanna keep it platonic? No worries. Aromantic and asexual options gameplay and options will be available as well.

🗺️ Deepen your friendship, romance, ruin, or reject relationships with any of the six available for romance.

🗺️ Win (and keep 😍) the nation's heart or be despised by the very place you call home.

🗺️ Travel to one of six locations (or more) in the run to secure your future.

🗺️ Discover secrets that were never really yours to begin with that now rest in the palm of your hand.

Caddel Aliz [F]: A metaphorical ball of sunshine whose actions shine just as bright as her personality. Hailing from the UK, she's made a home and name for herself in the US, but that's only among your friend group. As one of the smartest people in school, she'll surely keep you on your feet as things crumble around you.

She's always looked up to you and admired you. She always wondered if there could be more between you.

Motto: "When you can't be the sunshine, be the sunshine." - Unknown

Portrayed by Francesca Capaldi

Xachariah Collymore [M] : An All-American All-Star! When it comes to making the goals, be it in life or be it on the field, you could always count on the main man, Xachariah. As one of the most popular guys in school, a lot of people crave his attention. Be that as it may, the most special thing in his eyes are you and your rowdy group of friends that always puts a smile on his face.

He's always been an anchor for you. Maybe, just maybe... you're ready to be the same for him or maybe you're ready to pull the anchor up and set sail to see where the wind takes you.

Motto: "Do what you don't want to do, so you can do what you love." - Unknown

Portrayed by Keith Powers

Carter Yearwood [M] : Carter is the heart and soul of your group. Whenever plans need to be made or video games need to be played, Carter is always the one to call. As one of your best friends, he knows practically how to make the good things you experience better and the bad things marginally less horrible. Let's not forget his infectious laugh and smile. That's always a plus on any given day.

He's always noticed your beauty/handsomeness, but have you noticed his little glances he sends your way at times and there smile that follows that only exists for you?

Motto: "If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain." - Emily Dickinson

Portrayed by George Pomogisebe

Winter Yearwood [F] : As the newest addition of your group, she has yet to find her way. This is made more complicated by the fact that she is mute and only uses various forms of sign language to communicate. Despite her lack of words, her actions and kindness shine through. Will you welcome her with open arms or scorn her enough to where she'll want to keep you at arm's length?

"Who is this person that's caught my attention? Why can't I help but look their way? I wonder if they'll look at me too?"

Motto: "Measure twice and cut once." -Unknown

Portrayed by Dilraba Dilrumat

Molly Albrecht [F] : If Regina George could somehow escape the confines of the movie screen and search for her doppelganger in the real world, she'd have to look no further than Molly Albrecht. She is the queen bee of your school and she rules it with an iron heart and cold lungs. When the world begins to crash and burn, will you help her or make sure she's shoved into the fire of chaos?

"All I've ever known is the beauty of myself and servitude from others. I want to know something different. I want to try something different. I want to..."

Motto: "Boo, you whore." - Regina George

Portrayed by Kathryn Newton

Haven O'Kelly [NB, Sex Selectable, M or F] : The wisecrack of the group and the most nonchalant one to boot. Their quietness is usually seen as charming, but when they talk... they talk a lot. It's a miracle they never ruin out of breath. Born in Australia, they made their way through life to end up by your side. Will you let them stay?

They've always been fiercely loyal to you and by extension your friends, even begrudgingly coming to see the others as the same. In their subconscious, there's always been the notion that there's more for you both if that's something you'd be willing to try. Have they noticed it yet? Only one way to find out.

Motto: "Count your age by friends, not years. Count your life by smiles, not tears." - John Lennon

Portrayed by Ben Hardy [M] and Sydney Sweeney [F]

Note: No matter the sex that is chosen for Haven, their pronouns will stay as they/them. I appreciate your adherence and acknowledgement! 💖

Please note that this is a work in progress and it's still in the very early stages of writing and planning. Things will be likely to change, but I don't see that happening anytime soon. The current plan is to write the IF in an episodic format and to release it for free on itch.io. Links (RO playlists, moodboards, etc...) will be provided when ready. Any and all reblogs/likes are appreciated. Thank you for even reading this post! Much love 💕.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

hi again I hope you can do a yandere mer parents wolverine and storm [ animated series ] x baby reader and pirates of the Caribbean on stranger tides. and how would they react when their baby is kidnapped by pirates and what they will do to get their baby back.

Okay, I'm not familiar with that exact movie, but I can do pirates stealing their baby. Is that okay? Let's dive in-

• The day had been beautiful at first. Calm waters, plentiful fish, warm sunshine... Reader was playing up near the surface, trying to catch one of the birds, while Storm and Wolvwrine watched from below, resting. Everything was peaceful, quiet...

• And then there was a loud splash, followed by a shrill cry. Reader, who'd finally caught a bird, was wrapped up in a net, the tough strings digging into their skin and their eyes wide and terrified. Storm swam as fast as she could, calling for the wind to smash the ship to pieces, while Wolverine tried to break Reader free... Yet it was all for naught, as the net pulled up, dragging Reader with it and away from them. No matter how much their dad cut at the ropes, no matter how their mother summoned the winds and rains, it didn't stop the ship full of odd people from dragging Reader up and up, to the surface world, and to the humans...

• The moment Reader couldn't be seen anymore, the sky grew dark, almost black. Thunder crackled all around, loud and booming. The waves rocked unsteadily, the waters growing dark and treacherous. And then the skies poured down rain and hail, a roaring froth of water and ice pelting the seas with all their fury... The pirates could hear the angry wails from the waters, and realized that they caught a baby mer...

• The captain ordered them to leave, and thus they sailed away, going for days and nights over the wicked waters and devious deep. The rain never stopped, nor the howling winds. It only grew worse and worse. The crew claimed to see large beasts following them through the waves, their tails bright and long, their claws shining and deadly, their eyes bright and wrathful... Yet they still didn't release the little mer in their midst.

• It was such a tiny being, for so much trouble. It's scales weren't near as hard as an adult's, nor were their teeth the cruel fangs of their parents. Their eyes watered and their voice wept, and no matter the threats or promises they said did the little baby stop crying. They even refused food, not taking a bite from anything offered. It didn't even matter when the captain tried to gift them pearls or gold, if only to appease the mers and not have their ship sunk...

• Then one dark, freezing night... water started pouring into the ship. Deep gouges lined the wood, large holes and broken planks giving way to deep and briny waters. And the crew called a mutiny. It went horribly, the men and women fighting amongst each other, for power of the ship and to escape it, and many fell over, the water turning red within minutes... A few decides to drag the little mer up, ready to toss them overboard or to simply have them dead and be done with this nightmare... Except in the hull, staring back at them, was a beast... One of their parents...

• It was huge, with a tail that slammed heavily into the wood, cracking it further. It's claws gleamed, bright and long and sharp, as it clawed its way in. Its eyes burned, seething with cold anger and burning rage. And hidden under its fins, letting out muffled sobs, was the little baby... ITS baby...

• They ran screaming, only to find the deck in chaos. Lightning had struck the mast, setting fire to the surrounding tarps and canvas sails, and the ship, besides sinking, was now in flames. They could hear the chanting voice of the other adult mer, and could see the way the water and wind and weather did as it commanded. Hail struck down those who ran, while the rain made them slip into the waters. Its fangs grinned up at them, full of malice and hate...

• As the screams echoed into the night, Reader was curled under their dad's fins, hiding away as he and their mom finished up with the humans. Any who came close to their dad were cut to pieces, or shoved into the murky water, while they could hear their mom outside, drowning them with rain and burying them in ice and fire... Reader kept their head buried in their dad's side, not looking at the world around them...

• Then they felt Dad moving, and they were being held tightly. Dad whispered something, saying they were leaving- and then they went out of the sinking ship, where Mom waited for them... Reader felt their mother kissing their head, then checking over their tail, while Dad kept patting their back and whispering quiet nothings to them... They couldn't hear the thunder anymore or the humans, and they could only chirp as they nuzzle both of their parents.

• "Okay, little one, let's go back home... Mommy and Daddy need to get you some medicine and so food, okay? Just go to sleep, baby... We've got you..."

• And Reader let themself fall asleep, clutched close to their parents as they swam back home, ready to take care of them and keep them safe from anything...

[stardustlin]

we got barbie movie w miguel now we need noir to watch it he’ll be pointing at all the vibrant colors like 😱😱😱😱

WHOEVER COOKING UP THIS IDEAS, I LOVE YOU 🫂🌱🌈

with a sense of delightful irony, you and Spider-Noir found yourselves in a movie theater, about to embark on a rather unexpected cinematic experience - the Barbie movie. the contrast between the vibrant, fantastical world of Barbie and the monochrome universe he hailed from was as stark as night and day.

as the lights dimmed and the screen flickered to life, you couldn't help but steal glances at Spider-Noir, curious to see his reaction to this colorful world. he, too, seemed intrigued, his eyes scanning the screen as the vivid shades of pink, purple, and blue danced in front of him.

throughout the movie, he pointed out each vibrant hue, his unique perspective adding a layer of appreciation to the colorful scenes. with every vivid burst of color, he marveled at the bright landscapes and the shimmering Barbie outfits, a sense of wonder slowly dawning in his eyes.

“darling, look at those golden locks," he whispered, nudging you gently as Barbie's iconic blonde hair cascaded across the screen. "in my monochrome world, such vibrant hues are but a distant dream. but here, they come to life, as if painted across a vibrant canvas."

you couldn’t help but smile, caught up in the charm of his observations. it was a stark reminder of the stark contrast in their worlds, and how beauty could take on such different forms.

as the movie progressed, Spider-Noir's curiosity turned into genuine enjoyment, a childlike excitement shining through his dark eyes. he reveled in the lively songs, the whimsical storytelling, and the joy that radiated from the screen. his laughter mingled with yours, as the movie took you on a colorful journey that transcended your expectations.

by the time the credits rolled, Spider-Noir turned to you, a wide grin spreading across his face. "thank you for sharing this with me, my dear. i never thought a Barbie movie could hold such wonder and joy. the vibrancy of this world, even for a fleeting moment, has breathed new life into my monochrome existence."

in that moment, you realized that sometimes the simplest of experiences could bridge the gap between two worlds. it was a reminder of the beauty in embracing the unfamiliar, and the endless possibilities of love and adventure that awaited you both. as you left the theater, hand in hand, you carried with you the memory of this unique escapade, ready to explore even more vibrant horizons together.

and just maybe, in the midst of the colorful tapestry of your shared experiences, Spider-Noir would find a new appreciation for the splashes of color that awaited him, not only in the world of Barbie but also within the depths of your heart.

———

a/n: he’s so dreamy like he would definitely call you his darling, honey, hun, sweetheart, sweetstuff, sunshine 🫂

[werewolf222222]

Shadows intertwined

Beds of wine

The moon turns to roses

And caduceus falls from the sky

Our heaven is our skin

Lies fade when we live

The breath on my neck

Isn’t yours

Cold as the night

And bright as your eyes

You raise your friends from the dead

My smile hangs loose

Dripping rain awakens

Slaves as we

Become headless

The money is torn

And all we have left

Is one another

To find each other

In the hail

In the frail defences falling

Where the falcons

Whose talons find use

For us

Fine creatures

Catching dreams in blinds coloured blue

Shadowy angels

And endings cold as winter up north

So stay warm my love

They’ll need our

Mess of sunshine

And immaculate bloom

♡

[eldritch-bf]

Path of Titans things I’d love to see

A new map or new area added onto existing map that is a desert (vast sand dune area, an oasis area, craggy dry mountains in a rain shadow)

Same as above but a tundra area with a snowy alpine area, a tundra with only some hardy plants, snowy mountains, and a frozen chunk of ocean

The ability to set a custom waypoint

Map actually shows the names of the POIs and you can toggle these on and off

Option to lock the mini map to always point north with the option to keep it as it is

Seasons??

Obviously AI dinosaurs in single player which I think they are working on or plan to

Nesting and raising young system once your Dino is an adult

A campaign/story mode like what WolfQuest has where you start as a hatchling and are with an AI herd or your AI parents and siblings until you reach young adult stage and have to go off on your own and find your own AI mate and have to defend your hatchlings/herd. Could also challenge leadership in an existing herd.

This may be weird but considering how waystones and replenishing water sources work I don’t think it’s that weird, but maybe a volcano or geyer or other very unique location where if you throw a specific item into it, you can get the weather to change. Like throwing a piece of lakeweed gets you rain for 15 IRL minutes. A rock gets you hail, a flower gets your sunshine, etc. A frog gets you a plague of frogs and a termite gets you a plague of locusts lmao.

Some mechanism to make finding items easier because some of them are damn hard. Most games have a mechanism like this where you press a button and the environment turns grayscale apart from the resources which emit a bright color. Or just make some of the items easier to distinguish (like the ROCKS. Make them glowing rocks or a bright color like pink quartz or smth idk). Maybe you have to do a special somewhat difficult quest to unlock this ability or you can only See rocks once you’ve collected rocks in an area so now they’re always revealed to that dinosaur.

Either: A mechanism that only allows carnivores to attack other dinosaurs if they are Hungry and any two dinosaurs can agree to a duel if they both 3-Call at each other within a 30 second window or smth otherwise you cannot take damage or call damage.

OR: an official server with this mechanic separate from the regular free-for-all KOS servers.

Regardless the above would be it’s own game mode that people who create servers could set as their game mode if they so choose.

Once you’ve visited a way stone you can fast travel to it from other waystones.

Feel free to add your own I know the game is still in beta and some of these they’re probably already planning.

[cassiecasyl]

i love you berry much

Hi hi!! Did you miss me? Well, it’s Tony’s and my birthday so you know what that means!! I didn’t really feel all that fluffy today so have some hurt/comfort instead :3  read last years’: 2021 2022

The water lapped gently at the docks, driven by the soft spring night wind that was currently also playing with his hair. Peter let the constant rhythm lull him in, let it drown out the noise and laughter from the party behind him. The water slowly approached, running up just to crash against the wooden pillars in a splashing crescendo. Afterward, it always retreated, collecting itself for the next attempt. It was comforting like grass swaying, and familiar like words bouncing around his mouth, never sure when to leave. Like a hand gently tapping on his shoulder. 

A tiny tremor rippled through his body as he awoke. Peter turned and looked up to find Mr. Stark smiling at him. He was holding a brown basket of sorts. “Hey, kiddo, there you are! You were suddenly gone.” 

Peter blinked. The water seemed to have settled in his belly now, lapping at his skeleton. “You noticed?” 

His mentor’s eyebrows scrunched up slightly; maybe, there were rain clouds on the horizon. Peter swallowed and looked down. The rain would only hasten the erosion the lake had already begun. 

“Of course I noticed, Peter,” Mr. Stark said, his voice almost uncharacteristically soft. He settled down next to the boy and sat the basket down in front of them. It was filled with strawberries, Peter noted with confusion. The bright-red fruits shone with the promise of happiness that came with their sweet taste. 

“I will never not notice when my favorite Spiderling goes MIA,” he continued. 

I’m your only Spiderling, Peter wanted to say, but instead of taking the hook for deflection, he said: “I’m sorry.” This only deepened the clouds hanging over Tony’s features, and Peter damned the hail inside his soul. Though, before he could let it swallow him whole, there was a soft tap on his shoulder. Mr. Stark had opened his arms in question. Peter only hesitated a little before he leaned in. A content sigh escaped his lips as his weary body melted into the warm embrace. 

“What are you sorry for?” the man asked eventually. 

Peter hid his face against Mr. Stark’s chest. “For ruining your birthday,” he mumbled. 

“I’m sorry, kid, but you gotta speak up a little. I don’t have your super-hearing, unfortunately.” 

Peter huffed in frustration. His eyes down-trodden, he sat up a little, sucking in air. Mr. Stark rubbed over his shoulder blades in comfort. “I feel like I’m ruining your birthday,” he confessed. When he glanced up, Mr. Stark’s shocked and worried expression made the rain start falling. He was making everything worse. 

Instantly, Tony wrapped his arms around his kid again, rocking them slightly. Like grass swaying in the wind, Peter realized. The man’s heart drummed on in a beat faster than the water, but it was clear and sound. Safe. “No, no, no,” he whispered into Peter’s locks. “What gave you that idea? Did Nebula threaten you? Because I can assure you, she’s working on her violent tendencies.” 

Peter chuckled, and the clouds gave way for a single ray of sunshine. “No. It’s just— Everyone’s celebrating, and I’m just here being a downer and I don’t even know why. I mean, I didn’t even have a gift ready for you!” 

“Peter, listen to me. You being here, alive and in one piece, is the best gift you could ever give me. I don’t care if you gave me a thousand teddy bears or blew up the lab. I’m just glad you’re here.” 

“I’m glad you’re here too,” Peter said. Unconsciously, he had shifted so his ear was lying right over Mr. Stark’s heart. It had slowed a little now, but it was still beating steadily. On and on. No terrible silence in sight. Mr. Stark held him and the world became a little warmer. 

“A thousand teddy bears, huh?” the boy inquired after a while, his voice lighter than it had been in a while. 

“Oh no, don’t get any ideas,” Mr. Stark admonished lightly. “You know, I once gifted Pepper a giant teddy bear. Didn’t go over well…” 

Peter laughed. “You did what?” 

“I gave Pepper a giant teddy bear. It was like 10 feet tall or something. Pep was not amused, to say the least. To be fair, I was not doing great at the time,” he explained. 

“I bet Morgan would love it,” Peter pondered and burst out laughing at Mr. Stark’s pained expression. The man scooped up the bowl of strawberries and placed it into Peter’s hands. 

“Now, no more teddy bear shenanigans. Eat some. I know you haven’t eaten near enough at dinner and spiders gotta eat.” Peter blinked and took a strawberry. 

“Why do you even have these?” — he asked while munching — “I mean, is it even safe? Pepper’s allergic, and you always say Morgan comes after her.” 

“Because you like them,” Mr. Stark said as if it was the simplest thing. “And don’t worry, Morgan’s not allergic, she just prefers different fruits. I did get Pepper’s permission for once, too.” 

“Oh, wow, I’m proud!” Peter half-joked. “Also, Morgan is wrong because strawberries are clearly the best. My condolences to Mrs. Potts-Stark.” Tony chuckled and took one himself, quickly evading Peter’s wavy hands. 

“Thank you,” Peter said. 

Tony smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Anytime, kid.” 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, with Peter munching on his strawberries. The water continued to dance with the pillars, keeping up their rhythm. When most of the strawberries were gone, Peter considered the last ones carefully. He took one out, the biggest that was left, and presented it to the man beside him. 

“Mr. Stark? I love you berry much.” 

To Tony’s credit, he did not only roll his eyes at the pun, but also snorted. He took the strawberry with a thanking nod and bit into it. After it was gone, he pulled the kid close again and kissed the top of his head. “I love you strawberry much too, il mio bambino.” 

[jow99]

And then there were two

Tuesday morning dawned a bit ordinary. Looked like it might rain or might brighten up, we weren’t sure. We set off for Mandy’s last ride here in Spain. We did get hints of sunshine but at times it was also chilly. Irrespective it was a nice ride and Mandy really enjoyed it.

Back in L’Escala we stopped for a drink and some patatas bravas before heading home for a not too big lunch (mind you Jose and Mandy had enormous sandwiches at morning tea so weren’t that hungry anyway). As we arrived at home we saw all these yachts heading out. Apparently it’s some World Champs, can’t remember the exact category but it looks amazing from the balcony.

In the afternoon Jose set himself up on the balcony packing Mandy’s bike away for her flight back to Oz. Suddenly there was much commotion as he was being pelted by hail. We quickly brought everything inside so he could finish. Typically by the time we’d put everything inside it had stopped 🙄

Tuesday evening we went out for dinner for Mandy’s last night. We had a drink down at the beach first but then headed into one of the laneway restaurants as it was getting a bit chilly. We had a lovely meal and a really nice evening.

Wednesday morning we were up bright and early to get Mandy onto the 7am bus to Barcelona airport. We’ve really enjoyed having her stay with us, she has been an absolute pleasure.

Back home we both rang our Mums before eventually getting ready for our Spanish group. Today we were doing mini debates, good fun. After that we headed up to Carrefour for some groceries.

Lunch on the balcony and then Jose crashed on the lounge. Not surprising given how much he’s done over the last week. Late afternoon we wandered down to the beach for a drink. It was a bit windy but not too bad. Though it would have been a pleasant evening on the balcony we’ve been missing the tv so we settled in for a night in front of the box.

[adventuresofalgy]

After the storm had passed, the sky cleared for a while, so that at times it was even possible to see some welcome patches of blue. But massive clouds were still racing in from the Atlantic on a strong breeze, so that although the low January sunshine was pleasantly bright at times, it was soon obliterated by a fresh wave of grey, sometimes accompanied by a battering shower of hail, for the temperature had dropped back down again, and there was fresh snow on the hills.

Algy was feeling rather weary, for he had discovered that big storms were tiring and stressful, even for fluffy birds, so when the sun burst through and it looked as though it might last for longer than a few minutes, he flopped down on his assistants' tree seat and indulged in a wee bit of winter sunbathing – or, to be more accurate, light-bathing – trusting his fluffy feathers to keep him warm in the icy air.

He was suprised to see that although it certainly didn't feel like spring, the spring bulbs were far more advanced than usual for this time of year, with some of the daffodils which normally didn't flower until early March showing coloured buds already. And the sunlight, although still low enough to cast long, deep shadows, was a great deal brighter than it had been, which helped to create the illusion that spring had arrived well before its time.

As he rested comfortably in the sunshine, Algy thought of all his friends in the snow-bound areas of the northern hemisphere, for whom spring was still nothing but a chimera, and he hoped that a thaw would reach them soon. He wondered whether the birds in those areas could perhaps already detect what his human friends could not, for it was certain that no matter how cold it was at present, winter would inevitably pass, and spring would come again:

Over the land freckled with snow half-thawed The speculating rooks at their nests cawed And saw from elm-tops, delicate as flowers of grass, What we below could not see, Winter pass.

[Algy is quoting the short poem Thaw by the late 19th/early 20th century Welsh/English poet Edward Thomas.]

[dark-elf-writes]

Ooo ok I can work with that

So what if Izuku was only initially irritated by whoever they works for hiring the bodyguard, but immediately drops it when they see Aizawa because ohmygodthat’sEraserhead.

And despite taking care of the people sent after them alone, some groups are getting more intense and leaked their quirkless status to try and get them fired/isolated, thus making the villain group their only option.

That way there’s the villain groups trying to snatch them up and the “regular” harassment + threats.

Ajkdshshs

Shouta isn’t the first one that has been called in to act as a bodyguard the other ones just couldn’t keep up with Izuku. Shouta is All Might’s Hail Mary pass like “if anyone can keep up with them and keep them alive it is absolutely you”. Shouta who owes All Might one for some unknown reason agrees and is ready for the worst assignment he ever agreed to.

But then there’s Izuku with big eyes and a notebook full of analysis who has mischief in their eyes and a sunshine bright smile.

Everyone around them expects Izuku to dip out on Shouta like they did all the others but they are both way to interested in picking Shouta’s brain and Shouta is way too skilled to let them slip away.